Turning her head toward the sound of his footsteps, she watched his eyes flick over her. They swept up, down, up again. His smile caught her in its web and she smiled back.

"I'm sorry I took so long," he said as he sat on the edge of the bed, removing his shoes and socks.

"Something serious?"

"Office politics," he gave a disdainful snort. "Bad enough. Did I hear you in the shower?"

"Mmm," she hummed, stretching lazily. He stepped to his closet, placing his shoes on the floor. She rolled onto her side to watch him undress, never a sight to be missed.

He caught her watching him and spared an upshot eyebrow.

"Why are you lying on the bed crossways?"

"Because my hair is still damp and I didn't want to get the pillow wet."

"I should give some thought to a blow dryer," he grinned as he ran a hand over his bald head.

The belt was placed on the proper hook, tie went onto its rack, and... Oh yes! his shirt was peeled off his chest, sliding off his arms.

A warm, wet surge seeped between her legs; a low whining hum ran through her veins.

"While you're at it, your bottle of shampoo is running low," she pouted.

"I'm not a very thoughtful host, am I?" he chuckled. Shirt dropped in the hamper, pants unzipped and peeled off, creases matched and hung properly.

"Ahhh, your home has other perks," she confessed. The perk of a gorgeous man... broad shoulders, velvety cock, hungry mouth and sweet breath, warm chest and silky chest hair, muscular thrusts and gentle hands, eyes glowing with desire and a voice hoarse with passion.

Briefs off, he walked, cock rising, back to the bed, placing his watch on the bedside table, then stood a moment and just looked at her. She wet her lips.

"If you can wait, I could take a quick shower," he said, his voice low and husky.

"Mmm, not necessary," she replied. Wait? I don't think so. Her nerves were pin points... naked, creating a low hum in every part of her body, every square inch parched, thirsting for his ministrations.

"You can't wait?" he chuckled, his baritone laced with a brandy of amusement.

Laugh at me if you must, but hurry. Don't make me beg. Don't make me wait. Please! She reached for him, but he kneeled by the side of the bed and gently pressed her arms down.

"I can't wait," she whispered. Such an admission should have shamed her but it didn't. His face glowed as he reveled in her passion.

"You don't have to wait anymore," he murmured, then with the gentleness of a confident man, began to run his fingers over her face. At first, his touch was insubstantial... ephemeral. She closed her eyes and sighed, her yearning wistful... honest... needy in her exhalation.

"Why so sad? I'm here. Your wait is over," his whispered breath brushing against her hairline... the pulse in her temple and the line of her jaw.

"I want... I want..." she said, unable to stop herself, unable to give voice to what she really wanted.

"What do you want?" he asked, his words a soft slick into her ear as he bathed it with slow swirls of his tongue. "I have to know what you want. You have to tell me," he coaxed. "Or show me," he added, placing her head firmly between his hands and forcing her to open her eyes to his intense brown stare.

She reached up and touched... lightly caressed... his hands on either side of her head, then slipped her fingers around his wrists and pulled his hands down her face, over her collarbone to her breasts. With the slightest flex of his fingers and the pressure of his palms, he claimed them, gently grasping... his fingers dancing over her nipples turning them into aching points of desire.

His head still near hers, he whispered again. "Good?"

"Oh yes," she said, turning in hunger... kissing him.

"Your skin is so soft," he said, running his fingertips over her breasts, coming to rest on their soft, curvy undersides.

Her breath came in pants... frantic with need. She tried to whisper that need to him but no sound came out.

She nuzzled into the soft fur of his chest, letting it tickle her nose as her lips sought the smooth skin underneath. She inhaled the lingering scent of his cologne; there was a hint of soap, a freshly laundered shirt, and his own particular scent, rich in pheromones, a heady and intoxicating combination. Her racing breath blew against his chest hair in little puffs as he moved further down, kissing lower, tonguing and nipping at her belly button.

"Stop that," he warned when she reached down and tickled him. Smiling, she did it again and was rewarded by a decisive bite on her belly.

Undaunted, she found an even more ticklish spot. He muffled his laughter.

"Stop it or I won't," he growled.

"Won't what?" she asked.

"I won't give you what you want," he said, tracing her hipbones with his tongue.

"What do you think I want?" she asked, her breath fading with her need.

"I know you want this," he said, shifting further down, pushing her legs apart and flicking her wet folds with his tongue. Her scream was stifled only by pushing her fist hard against her mouth.

"And I know you want this, too," he murmured as he turned her over, sat up and draped her across his lap. "Do you want this?" he asked as his palm teased the cleft of her cheeks.

"Please," she gasped as his hand descended, light tingling slaps against the silk of her bottom cheeks, his palm rough and welcome against her flesh, her breath swallowed in delight.

Her back arched, receded, her hips lifting to meet his palm, ivory blushing to pink... rose... dusty, dusty rose.

"More?" he asked as he caressed the kindling flame. "More, my love?"

"Please," she hummed, her body his... now... forever.

Beneath her belly, she felt him harden, silk over steel. She could feel the heat of him burning for her, smell the darker, richer scent of him rising... for her.

Turning her onto her back, he kept a hand on her heated cheeks and buried his face between her soaked thighs. "Sweet," he murmured after an exploratory lick and smiled as she flung her legs far apart to give him ready access for his mouth and hands. He journeyed across her intimate topography with surety and skill, brushing and kissing her with his lips, tasting and teasing her with his tongue, lapping and suckling her with his whole mouth... drinking her in. His tongue was a fiery match-head, lighting a thousand fuses, and in mere moments, he would make her explode into a million joyful sparks.

Without warning, he shifted her so that she crossed his lap once more and again, the spanks rained down, her body on fire... in front where he stroked her... in back where his hands kept the fire going... the heat burning, searing, satisfying... so satisfying. When she was limp, he turned her yet again so that they could love each other simultaneously.

The sounds of wetness and hard gasps, the sweet scent of their arousal drove them further into bliss. Every pleasure his mouth and fingers brought her spilled forth and multiplied from her mouth onto his pulsing cock. Every joy she bestowed on his manhood, his mouth returned ten-fold on her sweet, secret places. This awkward, ridiculous-looking act, this mad dance of mouth on insatiable flesh, was their joyous need, their pleasure.

She felt his hands between their bodies, thrusting himself away, and a whimper barely escaped before she found herself tossed onto her back again. His face blurred with desire, he shifted in the bed so they were face to face. Throwing her legs apart, he grasped himself and pushed into her with one violent thrust, his eyes closing as his throat uttered soft and sweet moans. As wet as she was... as open as she was... as ready as she was, she still felt stretched, filled, split open by him. The way he fills me, I love it, love it.

She threw her legs around him, bucking into him, meeting his roughness with her own. His hand pushed the mattress next to her face as he propped himself up, his arm muscles rippling to support his weight and his hard, fast thrusts. His other hand was between their bodies where they were joined, stroking in counterpoint, driving her relentlessly... leaving her nowhere to hide. There was no escape... nowhere to go... she followed him into the bright burning flames.

His eyes, brown-black and ablaze, flew open. Twice... he called her name, a supplicant in prayer. She exploded... was born... died... reborn... in flames. Burning, phosphorescent waves of joy, ripples of white-hot oblivion washed over her. Ecstasy whipped through her, shaking her hard from head to toe.

When her eyes finally opened, she realized he had watched the whole spectacle of her immolation... her sacrifice... Pressing her hand to his cheek, she whispered his name... watched as the flame jumped between them with that whispered breath... watched as he joined her in the land of fire that only the two shared. He thrust once... twice more... roaring... and poured into her.

Fire. Fire in their blood. Fire in their mouths. Fire in their pulsing, joined bodies. Not him, not her. Just fire... From embers and ashes, from lava flow... time paused... began again... bits of themselves emerged... phoenix rising.

Tears spilled, hissing on the hot coals of her cheeks. He found them on his fingertips and heard himself soothing her. "Shhhh, shhhh, I'm here," as he pressed kisses into her tousled hair.

They found words... small, beautiful words to share as sleep claimed them. They never found all of her or all of him in the ashes. Look! There's a piece of her mixed in with him. Look! There he is, right inside her. A new creature rose from the ashes. Not him... not her...